The following players currently make up group 22 along with me, their host. As it stands, there are 5 active members in the group.
A full list of characters including all the NPC's can be found here.
Vryala Naïlo (ex-Group 13)
H/W: 5’11”, 116 lbs.
WS4 / S3 / T2 / D4 / I5
Light armour, shield, dagger, Repeater Crossbow
Defensive Fighting, Heal
Snow white hair and icy pale skin, a very attractive figure and striking purple eyes. A black ritual tattoo covers the left side of her face, and were she to remove her dark armour one could see there are more of those on various parts of her body. Her armour is usually adorned by a variety of spirit bells, the sound of which seem to cloy the eyes and dull the mind. These are creations of her own – a pastime she thoroughly enjoyed with her late mother. A disturbing beauty indeed. As a Druchii general’s daughter, Vryala has received extensive weapon training but prefers to rely on her wits and charm.
The daughter of a warmongering Druchii Highborn, Vryala found herself lacking a father most of her upbringing. During her passing years into adolescence she found out that her mother, who she was told died in childbirth, was actually still alive and very familiar to her. She was the person she’d always known as the groundskeeper, and this new revelation sent the two females screaming murder. However, no blood was spilt and the two started talking, eventually developing a loving relationship. Vryala learned a terrible secret, the reason her heritage had been kept from her – this woman had once been assigned by the great Lord Malekith as the household’s Sorceress. After a fleeting night of debauchery, the Sorceress had become pregnant and it was only with her best pleading and intense groveling that she had managed to keep her life from being taken by the enraged Lord Naïlo, in order to watch their child grow up. Now that the secret was out, however, she would surely be slain. At this point, Vryala began to fear for her own life as well.
Both the ex-Sorceress and her daughter having exceptionally good looks and an innate way with people, the two crafty she-Elves managed to rally the entire household to their side in expectancy of Lord Naïlo’s return. Upon arriving, he was greeted before the gates by his daughter, who took him apart from his army and confronted him with the secret. As foreseen, he was infuriated, and marched through the gates intending to slay Vryala’s mother. It was not long before he found himself betrayed by his servants, and his army was called inside to aid him.
Screams erupted from the halls as the household’s servants were butchered. Vryala rushed inside, trying to reach her mother before her father did, but he was a matchless fighter and had already slain all those who tried to bar his way. Stumbling onto the stairs, tripping over dozens of corpses, Vryala was surprised by the sudden scent of ozone and a crackling in the air. The following shockwave sent her tumbling down the stairs again, falling debris nearly quashing her on several occasions. Her mother had decided, after all these years of fear, to call on the Daemons of the Warp again and make a final stand. An unearthly voice boomed: “Go!” Vryala realized that her mother could not be saved and fled outside, her father’s soldiers not hindering her as they weren’t sure if they should consider her an enemy. Tears of rage burning her eyes, she locked all the gates of the estate, trapping those inside.
As she walked away, she looked back to see the estate being ripped apart by nightmare Daemons. Even from where she was standing, the screams of terror and pain could be heard clearly over the collapsing of the walls and tower. A massive incarnation of Chaos burst out from under the estate, completing the destruction and roaring triumphantly, before fading into inexistance again. Vryala’s mother had died and had cursed her own soul forever, but her daughter would be spared Lord Naïlo’s wrath.
The vocation of mercenary came naturally to her, being very fond of battle and equally skilled with weapons. Her main motivation is to leave Naggaroth and establish an estate of her own in an area that’s more easily exploited. She eagerly seizes any opportunity to increase her power, having a particular interest in the magic variety.
Vryala currently resides in Vikarh, and has up until recently been serving Suffrat, an infamous Captain of the City Guard. However, he doesn't seem to have need for her services any more. She is now in search of new coin and adventure.
Name : Karonath
Appearance : She is short for an Elf. She has the bones of a full figure, indeed her hips would suggest that she has had a child. The flesh that covers her bones is rather scant and wiry, the skin taut, giving her a fierce look. She has long black hair, and sparkling green eyes. Her bust is below the Dark Elf average. If she dresses, she dresses in blue and purple.
Height : 6'2"
Weight : 65kg
Class : Trainee
Background : Little is known of her true origins. It is perhaps enough to say that she was found on the streets of Naggarond, by the Hags, one Death Night. The Hags might have killed her, but they saw that she was both beautiful and fierce, and had a rather devious turn of mind - as might be expected of a castaway in such a dangerous place. So, rather than sacrifice such an ideal specimen, they initiated her. As to what her home was, and how she lost it, she herself can not remember.
She is almost completely insane, given to occasionally going into fits of howling grief, followed hard by bursts of murderous rage. She could not tell her name either, so the Hags named her Karonath, which is the Sufferer. Nor could she tell how long she had been on the streets; some years, at any rate. The Hags were naturally curious as to how she had not been discovered there earlier. Apparently, she would break into the attics of houses, by opening the locks with what she could 'thoughtwind'. It seemed she had some kind of natural aptitude to magic.
Her training has hardly begun, in the warlike sense. She does have some streetwise knowledge of fighting with and without weapons. She has learned a little in the way of acrobatic skill, such that when she has a mind, she can turn some rather surprising tricks. Being rather childlike still, she will occasionally do such things for the sheer joy of it.
At the moment the Hags are wrangling with the task of revealing to her closed mind the majesty and terror of Khaine, that she might worship him. She is frighteningly quick minded, within her narrow spheres of judgement. She is sly and seductive, and if thwarted, quite fierce, at least, when she has a clear object. At all other times she has rather the air of a confused child.
For the moment, the Hags are content to send her out into the world, in order that she may come to Khaine through battle and blood. They attach her to whatever company will have her, and send her away with the Blessing of Khaine upon her. If she should so gain a lust for death and destruction for its own sake, the Hags hope that she will then be ripe for further initiation into the mysteries of the Temple.
Their plans are slowly being realised. The young Trainee has indeed begun to realise the power of the Lord of Murder, and it appeals to her extreme vulnerability to have such power on her side. It must be recognised that the crazed urchin has far to go before she might be a fit bride for Khaine.
Equipment : Sword and dagger, 3 throwing knives. 355gc.
Skills : Two handed fighting, Uncontrollable frenzy, Acrobatics
Weapon Skill : 5
Strength : 2
Toughness : 4
Dexterity : 5
Intelligence : 2
Why low Intelligence? She's like a Cold One. It's not the lack of intelligence really, it's the lack of concern, or, if you like, the narrow perspective. High toughness because she's as near as dammit a psychopath. She don't stop till she's dead.
Character Name: Phalx Tr'dasr
Character Height/Weight: 6'2"; 175 lb.
-Wild Black hair.
-Deep Jade eyes.
-Rustic simply cut dark brown cloths
- A travel worn Kheitan of Human skin.
-Scars around his wrists.
Character Class: Warrior
-Light Armour (The Kheitan)
Phalx's father met, and died with his mother fighting in the service of the Witch king. They had lived in Hag Graef as guards for a minor highborn family, until one year when Phalx's was 69, him and his family, with 200 other retainers were sent with a foolish highborn on a mission to the Chaos Wastes. HE wasn’t told much about it except something to do with a sorcerers tower. It went wrong as soon they stepped out of the city onto the Spear road. After two years of battling on the fringes of the waste, their mission uncompleted, the far fewer survivors travelled back in shame leaving their dead behind, Including Phalx's family. Though still young Phalx's managed to keep his fathers house and holding and after another 15 years he was able to form a small band and head off to the Chaos Wastes again.
A nobler Phalx's would have done it to avenge his parents, but Phalx wasn’t noble. He did it because on their way back from their failed mission, the highborn who had leaded it had mysteriously died, with a dagger in his back. Before his corpse could be looted, of what wealth he had they were set upon by vile beastmen and chased off. Phalx's had made sure though that he hid the nobles corpse before they left so if ever the chance arose he could return for the wealth.
Him and two other warriors did return and find the now skeletal remains of the Highborn, but there was no wealth to be found. Beastmen or other foul denizens of the waste must have gotten to him first. Phalx’s fellow warriors were obviously furious, believing he had lied to them all along. They took Phalx and chained him up, determined to have their revenge on the fool who had lead them on this stupid endeavour. Phalx through sheer luck managed to kill his allies. As the chains were clamped over his wrists He wrapped them around the neck of one of them. Pulling on it he snapped the startled fool’s neck. The other charged at him spear levelled to gut him like a fish. He tripped though on the chains intended to shackle Phalx’s ankles. As the warrior was sprawled on the ground Phalx grabbed a rock and crouching over him, proceeded to bash his head into a bloody mush. His luck ended there though. In the fight the key to the chains had broken off in the lock.
No son of Naggaroth would just sit there and wait to die, he thought, So taking supplies from his dead comrades, He got onto one of their horses, and made his way back through the wastes to Naggaroth, the chains biting into his flesh all the way. The horse was killed when a pack of furies attack Phalx’s camp, one night in the cold harshness of the wastes. He ran blindly though the night the whinnies of the dying beast echoing strangle in the darkness. The rest of the journey was hard; he was always close to starvation, and dying of thirst. The constant fear of discover was heavy on him.
He managed to persuade a blacksmith to remove the chains. It was amazing how a dagger to your child’s neck can persuade someone. On His return to Hag Graef he became a simple Flesh House guard. Some at first asked him about the scars on his wrists. They stopped after one of the more persistent ones, presuming he was an escaped slave lost both his eyes. He still works at the same flesh house till this day, but thoughts of grandeur and wealth still remain at the back of his mind, as do the thoughts of the mysterious tower, that caused all of the trouble.
Weight: 75 kg
Height: 6, 1"
Equipment: leather armour (covers whole body up to neck and down to boots), robes, staff, dagger
Skills: Power of Ulgu (level2), power of Chamon, basic stealth
Physical appearance: Elysian has an unremarkable face. His hair is a light grey colour now, though originally black it has been altered in order to make changing it on a more temporary basis easier, he tends to wear it short. Clothes wise he wears a short grey robe over his brown leather armour. The robe is cut above the knee like a tunic but unlike a tunic has a deep hood which can when raised cover his face completely. He wears his dagger on a belt over the robe and carries his staff which is a five foot quarter staff.
Background: Orphaned early Elysian knows little of his parents other than that they were petty members of Vikrah's underbelly. As a young child he was taken from the streets where he would no doubt have frozen to death by one of the criminal syndicates which plague Vikrha's honest citizens.
Elysian (known then simply as 'boy' and later as 'jackdaw') was billeted with a gang of vagrant youths organised by the syndicate to pick pockets, cause confusion for their more senior members and learn the trade of the thief. Fortunately he found that he was talented and unlike some of the more unfortunate children he rose into the ranks of the junior thieves ( children typically being sold at auction as slaves if they failed to make the grade).
It was shortly after his 73rd birthday (a largely arbitrary day marked on the calendar, he is unsure of his true age) that his life took an interesting twist. After picking the pocket of an unusually alert merchant 'jackdaw' was sent running for his life, taking a wrong turn he found himself caught down a closed alleyway. With no way out Elysian did his best to hide in the shadows but he knew that if the merchant came after him there was no hope of remaining hidden. As the elf approached he willed with all his being for the elf not to see him and as the merchant gazed into the tiny patch of shadow holding Elysian a seeming miracle occurred; a ripple of energy coursed through the young thief and the merchant's eyes glazed over. Moments later he retreated up the alleyway muttering to himself about his eyes going in his old age.
The incident made little sense to Elysian and so he sought advice from one of his superior's in the syndicate, recognising that the young elf might just have manifested latent magical abilities the older thief passed Elysian up the chain until he was put in front of an elf introduced to him as 'sensei', a rouge wizard who served the syndicate. Quickly confirming that the boy could indeed channel the power of the winds 'sensei' gave him a new name, Elysian, and began to teach him what he knew of the magical arts.
Not being convent trained and indeed being forced to stay away from most sources of magical knowledge for fear of being discovered and delivered to a most unpleasant fate at the hands of the witch king’s officials sensei’s knowledge was very limited but it was still a deep well so far as Elysian was concerned and for decades he studied under the older rouge and once again began working as a thief using his arcane skills to good effect in their larcenous cause.
The life of the burglar was not meant for the magician however and when he was 121 his life took another turn. Whether through good police work or more likely a traitorous tip off the city watch infiltrated a meeting of the syndicate’s leaders, capturing or killing them all including sensei. Elysian was not present fortunately but with the leadership gone and the lesser thieves scattered to the four winds and beyond it was clear that Elysian would have to find a new source of employment.
And so taking up his meagre possessions which amounted to little more than the clothes on his back and armed with his trusty staff, a dagger and his wits the rouge mage set out to see what value the market might place on a wizard for hire.
• Name: Casaythe Blackstorm.
• Sex: Male.
• Age: 214.
• Height: 6 foot 2 inches.
• Weight: 13 stone.
• Appearance: Of medium build, Casaythe has the physique of one who is used to hard manual labour. He has a mane of white hair that he wears loose, unless his activities require that it is tied back. His eyes are a cold grey, like the seas north of the Blighted Isles, his lips thin (often twisted into a smirk), his face long and angular. His ears are decorated with several metal rings, piercing from tip to lobe. When not in battle, he tends to wear a plain kheitan, with a short sword hung from his belt.
• Character Class: Warrior.
• Character Statistics: WS3, S4, T4, D3, I4.
• Starting Equipment: Short Sword, Glaive, Light Armour, Light Crossbow
• Starting Skills: 0
• Character Background: He will tell you his father was a corsair, his mother was unfortunate. Casaythe was the result of a short and violent affair which led to his mother taking up employment in a flesh house of Clar Karond once his father returned to sea. Dragged up through his childhood, Casaythe saw the seedier side of Druchii society and quickly learned to exploit others around him to ensure survival; often profiting from blackmail threats or other petty intrigues.
Living as a cut-throat and a thief, he spent his youth around the city of the Druchii fleet, until the opportunity arose for him to follow his father's footsteps. Hired as part of a crew for a noble's Hakseer Cruise, he and his fellow corsairs earned a name for themselves after evading near disaster in the seas north of the Empire. Of a small fleet of corsair vessels, only his ship returned to Clar Karond along with the noble on board and a hefty cargo of gold and slaves. After the tales of their battle against the Imperial Fleet of Marienburg spread, so did Casaythe's reputation. He would find himself hired for many more missions and raids.
Eventually obtaining his own vessel, the Willbreaker, Casaythe now spent his time raiding Ulthuan and the Old World. However, after an unfortunate incident involving a game of dice, he no longer commands his ship. And certainly won't talk about it.
He considers himself a warrior and a merchant, able to obtain any goods or take on any task if the payment is right.
• Name: Caraoc
• Sex: Male.
• Age: 200.
• Height: taller than average.
• Weight: slim.
• Appearance: Dressed as a sailor mate, no shoes.
Dark grey skin, pale bluish hair, dark blue eyes, one blue tooth. Gold ring on right ear, gold rings on all fingers, gold necklace.
Loves to sing. But he sings and dances so badly that it makes raining.
• Character Class: Mage (Heavens).
• Character Statistics: WS2 S4 T2 D5 I5
• Starting Equipment: staff, short bow.
• Starting Skills: Power of Azyr (2).
• Character Background: Born in Karond Kar, he lived at sea during most of his life. Soon, he developed a talent for navigation, calling all stars by their first name, telling the north from a warpstone, finding his way despite the heaviest cloud cover. With him, a fleet was never lost, the trip back home was as certain as if a stone paved road was followed.
Even better, he became the most accurate weather forecaster. Not only his prediction would come true, but it would happen at the most appropriate time: a storm before the raid came, lightening just before assault, fog just after retreating, rain just in time to cover their path, snow when they were tracking a fleeing foe, examples were countless when Caraok manage to forecast the most appropriate weather, and when that event happened.
While the corsairs were raiding a town, he was left to guard the ships with the crippled. During that time, he learned how to shape the wind in whirl, the sea in trombs .
But when this was discovered, he was chased from the fleet.
Now he looks how to go back at sea.
• Character Ambitions: Power of Azyr (3) and Wind Walking, followed by Sea Lore and Tracker. The more "I", the better, "D" following next. He wants to discover a way to go on the moon. There must be a way.
The following players are no longer part of the group (dead or otherwise removed from play due to inactivity)
Name: Fiat Obsidian
Height and Weight: 6'8, 160 ibs.
Image description: Long black hair, somewhat curly with bangs that cover the top of his face. Tall and lean, tonned muscles that provide him with a still slim looking body. There is a large scar on his scalp that is covered by his hair, and a burned mark of Slaanesh hidden on his inner thigh. Always wears his armour, which he prides on being a dark metallic blue, but usually has a light robe over it.
Character Class: warrior
Background: The son of a rich and greedy Highborn, Kaz Obsidian. Kaz was greedy, underhanded and lazy. Instead of going on slave raids and earning his position, Kaz highered loyal assassins to cause mutinies and assassinations on highborns troops, and bring all their riches, slaves and men to him. Kaz wed a mysterious Druchii from the northern boarderlands and soon they had two children: Lux and Fiat.
Lux, the older brother, was favoured by their father, and the two of them ordered Fiat to carry out dirty and harsh tasks. But Fiats mother seemed to favour him, and came up with a plan to overthrow Kaz.
Fiat joined with his mother and slew his own father and brother, bringing then alone in a place they thought they could trust Fiat, then he cut their heads from their necks in two quick slicing motions. His mother had highered strange mercenaries from the north, Human tribesmen with savage looks. The men raided the Obsidians keep for all their precious valuables, and when Fiat was to discuss the division of their new wealth he was betrayed. His mother was an adept in the worship of Slaanesh. She cut Fiat on his scalp and whispered an enchantment into the bleeding flesh.
Fiat awoke on the streets shortly after, remebering the treachery of his mother, but unable to remember where she was or even what she looked like. His leg burned with a strange sensation, somewhere between tingling and burning flesh. When Fiat checked his leg, the mark of Slaanesh was burned into his skin, but he didn't remember how or when. He also gained this new hunger for blood, as well as a need to regain his lost position. But he had nothing, and knew he would have to continue with more dirty work to gain a penny, but now he seemed to enjoy it.
Long Sword, Shield, Light Armour.
Weight: 68kg (about 150 lbs)
Description: He stands tall and proud. He is lithe and unkempt, yet strong from years at sea. He is jet black hair, which an icy stair from his wloflike, yellow eyes. He has many scars from battles that he wears proudly, the most prodominant of which runs across his left eye, which was caused in a raid from an elven blade.
Background: Found as a youngling at a shipwreck amoung one of the islands with the Sea of Chill, he was found by a corsair ship returning from a raid in Lustria. They brought him aboard as he might make a good member of the crew and would be in their debt. He was raised in the seafaring ways, taken on countless raids. Vash'nir's history is unkown along with much of his life. He is quick to temper and has an anger and hatred for all. After his ship was destroyed at sea when he as 47, he awoke on the shores of Karond Kar, where he was taken in to be sold as a slave. Fighting them constantly, he was recognised as someone who might be of some use and thus indentured to the city. Before long he was taken in by a shade clan residing in the city, waiting to be hired out for a raid. Vash'nir was then tought the ways of the shade, how to kill, how to blend in, this with his skill at sea helped him too grow strong and hone his skills over the years. Vash'nir was later on yet another raid on the coasts of the Empire where he scouted the enemy force and assisted the raidind force in taking the unaware army of the empire by surprise on a moonlit night. Now again in Karond Kar, he resides waiting to be taken too sea too raid and too kill.
Vash'nir has no knowledge of his family, he knows not if his is noble or a common house slave. The only part of his old life left is his name and for this he will fight to the death... or at least until someone is unconcious. He fights often engaging in brawls on the ship and picking fights with the wrong elves.
Equipment: Short Sword, Repeater Crossbow, Shade Cloak
Skills: Basic Stealth
Name: Yori Temel
Height: 6 ft 4 inch
Eyes: dark brown
Hair: Black/brown .
Starting gear: Repeater crossbow, Shield, Light Armour.
Yori is of average height and weight, albeit he has a generally stockier build compared to other elves as a result of his way of life. He wears his shoulder length hair in a ponytail as a sign of his lower status within Yamadan society, a fact that means very little to anyone outside that society.
Unlike most druchii who are dark, brooding and to most people, threatening, Yori has a much simpler demeanour, and one that changes with his clients. Generally he is well mannered and approachable although somewhat juvial, this has often had him seen as a clown or fool, but it also has the effect of lightening the mood and putting overly cautious or edgy clients at ease.
However, this doesn't mean that he can't take a more serious or sombre mannerism if it is required, just that he prefers not to... He is a very odd druchii.
Of all the classes in Yamadan society, few rank lower than the merchant class (with the obvious exception of slaves of course). However, being low class didn't mean an impoverished lifestyle, unlike those who sought a life of warfare, merchants such as the Temel family sought only wealth. As such, while there were no hopes of military or political power for the third son of the Temel family he had access to most things gold could buy.
Yori was trained as a typical druchii youth, but also taught his father's trade, so after his compulsory 70 years of military service he, like his brothers before him, began his journey to expand his family's wealth and trade routes.
First step was to join a group to travel with.
Name: Saldrimek Xenan
Height and Weight: 6'9, 95 Kg
Other Descriptions: Long black hair tied back to keep out of his face. Green piercing eyes, many earrings shaped to look like druchii symbols. Robes of a light red color as well as having delicate hooks and bells hanging from his robes.
This gives Saldrimek a somewhat inquisitive look while others usually try to avoid him. It is quite hard for Saldrimek to hide for the bells and hooks are continually knocking together, alerting most people to his presence.
His face is as smooth as marble and he has absolutely no scars or blemishes upon his clear cut face.
Around his wrists are chains designed to look like thorns and spiked stems.
His footwear are open toe sandals which allow his feet to breath more for he moves around on his feet quite a lot.
Saldrimek' lithe body belie the muscular arms and legs he has obtained over the years of training at the Temple. His life ambition is to become more of a Executioner than an Assassin, though he is yet to decide which path to follow.
Class: Trainee of Khaine
Saldrimek was born to a normal family of two. He grew up with a fairly good relationship with his two brothers and one sister. He was mainly neglected by his family for he was the youngest and he did not receive the proper training which he would of liked from his family. At the mere age of 50, Saldrimek was considered a weakling and a failure by everyone around him.
This depressed Saldrimek to the extent that he always stayed out late, following the other kids home, always hanging at the back, always wanting to join the fun. No one ever saw Saldrimek for he was perfect at hiding, plus no one ever wanted to see Saldrimek. If the kids saw him, they would usually call him names and throw junk at them.
One late night, Saldrimek was walking home after attempting to play with the other kids, when he bumped into a hooded figure. The hooded figure turned around and looked down upon the frightened Saldrimek. Looking into the eyes of Saldrimek, the hooded figure saw the sheer malice and hate in the small childs eyes. The hooded figure knocked Saldrimek out and carried him back to his house.
Knocking on the front door, the hooded figure was welcomed by Saldrimek father, angered by the fact that Saldrimek had stayed out so late. Leaving Saldrimek with his family, the hooded figure just so happened to pass the window of Saldrimek' room. Looking in, the hooded figure saw that the child was sitting alone on his bed, with a bag stuffed with straw, a crude face drawn upon it.
The hooded figure decided that Saldrimek was not wanted by his family and would not be missed, which was entirely correct. Taking Saldrimek to the Temple, the hooded figure decided to train the boy and make him his apprentice.
Saldrimek hardly ever talks, he only does when he is either talked to or he wants to know about something. He has a strict personality as he follows out orders to the grain. The main reason he has the bells and hooks upon his body is to make people aware of him, making them acknowledge his presence.
He is currently a mercenary for hire at Vikarh for his sensei (the hooded figure) died a short while ago, leaving Saldrimek to his own doings.
Formally of Group 12
Equipment: Scimitar and dagger, 5 gold coins, 2handed Axe (Will remove items if wanted)
Two Weapon Fighting